Unicorn Turds
by Jenja
Summary: Santana Lopez has been crushing on Brittany Pierce since she was a first year. But Brittany is the most popular girl in school and a star quidditch player, and Santana is practically invisible… Harry Potter AU Brittana.
1. Part 1

this story came about from a fanslide request and snowballed from there. i write it on tumblr (jennamacaroni. tumblr .com) but will try my best to keep this up-to-date! thanks for reading!

* * *

Brittany Pierce is the most badass girl in school. Top of her class, favorite among the Hogwarts professors (even droll Professor Binns, who never seems to take an interest inany student), captain of the Ravenclaw quidditch team (not to mention one of the best seekers Hogwarts had seen in decades), president of the Magical Creatures Club, and Prefect for the second consecutive year.

Santana Lopez had been secretly pining after Brittany since her first year, when Santana had her head buried in her school map searching for the transfiguration classroom and accidentally knocked into Brittany on the Grand Staircase. Santana, mumbling an apology and bending down to pick up her fumbled "Hogwarts, A History" book remembers the feel of Brittany's hand on her elbow pulling her back upright, her blazing smile and bright sapphire eyes, and the creases formed by laughter lines on her face. She remembers the giggle and "no worries, newbie" Brittany laughed before pointing her in the right direction and taking off up the staircase two steps at a time to catch up with her friends.

How many times over the past four years had Santana looked across the Great Hall over breakfast to gaze at Brittany run her hair through her long blonde hair in between sips of pumpkin juice, or secretly cheer every graceful dip and dive she took during quidditch matches. Santana even took to studying outside on the grounds on the hill above the pitch during the warmer months just to hope to catch the Ravenclaw team practicing. Santana was always careful not to get caught staring, but it was like a sixth sense she had; like she could feel a tugging deep in her gut whenever Brittany stepped into the room, even if Santana was engrossed in studying or another conversation.

"Hellllloooooo… Earth to Santana," Rachel crows, leaning into Santana's line of sight and reaching across the table to snap her fingers a few inches in front of Santana's eyes to get her attention. "One of these days I'm totally going to petrificus totalus you while you're oogling at Brittany, then start throwing Bertie Bott's beans into your open mouth until you choke," Rachel laughs, teasing.

"Can it, Berry. And I wasn't oogling," Santana grumbles, throwing an annoyed glare in Rachel's direction from across the table.

"Why don't you actually, oh, I don't know, _talk_ to her?!" Rachel suggests, looking back and forth between Santana's red face and Brittany doing a troll impression across the hall.

"Because, Berry, she doesn't even know I exist, so drop it," Santana snaps, taking a large bite of pie and allowing her eyes to flit quickly to Brittany and back down again to her plate.

"Fine, whatever, you hopeless lovestruck idiot. But what happens next year when she's Head Girl and you're a Prefect and she'll not only know your name but actually be bossing you around?" Rachel asks, grinning maliciously.

"You don't know I'm going to be a Prefect, and she can boss me around however she'd like. Wanky, I know," Santana adds, catching Rachel's suggestive single eyebrow raise. "Now seriously, shut the hell up," Santana groans, taking one last bite before throwing down her fork and pushing herself up from the table.

Brittany happens to look up at the same time and catches Santana's eye over the Hufflepuff table and Santana chokes on her last bite of pie, steps on the hem of her robe while lifting her leg over the bench and stumbles forward back into the table, catching herself at the last moment by sticking her palm right into the leftover pie still on her plate.

"Smooth, Lopez," Rachel sputters, throwing her head back with laughter as Santana wipes the mess from her hand, throws the dirty napkin in Rachel's direction and high tails it out of the Great Hall.


	2. Part 2

the hp!brittana finally has a name (from a HP puppet pals skit; i am just awful at coming up with names, tbh) and now a part 2!

* * *

The first time Santana has an actual conversation with Brittany, her head is buried in a sea of books spread over nearly an entire table in the back corner of the library. She's in the middle of cursing under her breath for smudging the ink on the parchment again (sometimes being left handed is the worst) when she catches a flash of blonde hair and swirl of black robes in the low lamplight. Brittany appears as if she had apparated, crouching low and grasping the top of Santana's chair for support as she leans around to spy on Madame Pince.

"Uh, hi?" Santana manages, dumbstruck. She can feel her heart accelerating rapidly, armpits starting to sweat at the thought of how close their bodies are and how Brittany smells like honeysuckle.

"Shhh," whispers Brittany, lifting a finger to her lips in an exaggerated mime before pointing down the closest corridor of books at the librarian, who looked to be scraping some sort of dark colored slime off an unlucky set of shelves. A slug-vomiting charm or something from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Santana bets.

Brittany brushes her hair behind her ear with a mischievous smirk and leans in very close to Santana like she has a wicked secret to tell. Santana thinks she may be having a minor panic attack because this doesn't feel like a dream yet her muscles are frozen, she's forgotten to breathe and Brittany just feels _everywhere_.

"Hi," she whispers. "You don't know me, but I need you to do me a huge favor. You need to go distract Madame Pince while I sneak into the Restricted Section for a jiffy. You mind? I'll owe you big time," she hushes. "Oh, I'm Brittany, by the way," she adds, reaching to squeeze Santana's shoulder quickly.

"Santana. And uh yeah, sure, I guess I can do that," Santana gulps, pushing up from the table and moving in the direction of Madame Pince. When she looks back again, Brittany is still crouched behind the chair, throwing her an enthusiastic thumbs-up and the hood over her robe up over her head.

Santana tries to form a plan of distraction but comes up empty, deciding to just wing it as she walks the loop around the shelf to come at the librarian from the other side and away from Brittany. "What'cha got there, Madame Pince?"

"What does it look like, Miss Lopez?" she answers curtly, pausing her scrubbing to look pointedly over at Santana. "Can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah, I think you can, I'm looking for a book," Santana lies. "But also, can't you just use a cleaning charm for that?" she suggests, pointing towards the goo-covered books.

"Oh, magic, of course!" she answers sarcastically. "Obviously I have already tried, but it seems quite resistant to any magic," she huffs, using her gloved hand to pull a rather large glob from between two books and plopping it into a bucket at her feet. "Now about that book, spit it out, then."

Santana is dumbly silent for a few uncomfortable seconds. "…Oh, right. Um. I'm looking for something… uh," Santana rambles, glancing quickly over Madame Pince's shoulder towards the Restricted Section. No Brittany.

"In this century, if you would, Miss Lopez. These books are not going to clean themselves," snaps Madame Pince.

"Unicorns!" Santana spits out. "Like, um, more than just the basic origins and folklore kind of thing, specifically the properties and uses of their blood?" Suddenly Santana can't remember anything from lessons covering unicorns back in first year, and she realizes she sounds like a complete idiot. She glances back toward the Restricted Section. Still no Brittany.

Madame Pince squints skeptically at Santana, as if she knows she's up to something. "Did you try the magical creatures section, Miss Lopez?" she asks, annoyed.

Suddenly Brittany appears on Madame Pince's other side, startling her into a yelp as her hand flies to clutch at her chest.

"Merlin's beard! You startled me, Miss Pierce. Didn't even hear you approach!" gasps Madame Pince dramatically, before taking multiple deep breaths.

"Oh just wanted to let you know a little onion juice will clean that slime right on up," Brittany eases, as if she was instructing Madame Pince on getting grass stains out of a quidditch robe and not some stubborn magical substance the librarian had been trying in vain to get rid of for hours.

Brittany's smile is painted with dashes of wickedness and her eyes sparkle with scheming when she meets Santana's gaze. Santana feels butterflies flying helter-skelter in her gut and is convinced she must be dreaming.

"You two have an enjoyable rest of your evening," a smirking Brittany drawls cordially, bringing up her hand to tip an imaginary cap before winking quickly at Santana, turning on her heel and disappearing from sight.

"Right. Thanks," Santana manages after a few uncomfortable moments where she tries to catch her breath. Brittany Pierce had just winked at her. And talked to her. And made her an accessory to rule-breaking. She returns quickly to her table without another word and finds a tiny piece of parchment poking out from under her ink bottle.

The handwriting is a loopy but neat cursive.

"Thanks :)"

Santana grins like a goon for the next half hour it takes to finish her paper before packing up and climbing the stairs to the common room.


	3. Part 3

Santana takes the stairs two at time up the four flights between the library and Gryffindor Tower, Brittany's note still clutched tightly in her clammy hand. She skids to a stop before the portrait of the Fat Lady, who looks up disinterestedly while continuing to file her nails.

"Well?" she drawls, eyeing a disheveled Santana up and down.

"Felix culpa," Santana manages, resting her hands on her knees while catching her breath. The portrait swings open in a flourish, but not without an exasperated sigh from the Fat Lady at the obviously unwelcome interruption. Santana climbs through with a hurried "thanks!" and speeds into the common area, scanning the room quickly.

"Oh my god!" she shrieks, immediately throwing up her elbow to shield her face from the sight of Rachel draped over her boyfriend Finn Hudson's lap in a chair by the fireplace, their mouths open and suctioned to each other sloppily.

At Santana's sudden outburst, Rachel yelps and tumbles face first out of Finn's lap into a heap on the floor. "Owww," she whines, rubbing at her elbow as Finn stumbles to his massive feet and pulls her upright.

"Can't you two find a closet somewhere to do that? And god, it's like he was giving you mouth to mouth but also trying to swallow your tongue and I've seen things I cannot unsee. It's going to haunt my dreams, I'm telling you," Santana complains, her high from the library encounter with Brittany ebbing.

"Just because you…"

"Save the lecture, would you? Something happened and I need to talk to you stat. No boys allowed," Santana snaps, shooting a warning glare in Finn's direction. He shrugs dumbly and shuffles off to the boy's dormitory without another word.

"Well, that was extremely rude, Santana," Rachel snips matter-of-factly, pulling her loosened neck tie tight and centered. "Now what is so important that you just had to interrupt a steamy Finchel makeout sesh?"

"First of all, ew. Second of all," Santana pauses, checking over her shoulder to make sure no one is eavesdropping. "I talked to Brittany."

Rachel's eyes bug out of her head comically, mouth dropping open in shock as she lets out a dramatic gasp. Santana feels that goofy grin slip back onto her own face as Rachel goes from dumbfounded to bouncing up and down clapping her hands excitedly. "SANTANA this is just WONDERFUL. Tell me everything!" she gushes, yanking Santana by the hand to the nearest couch.

"Well, it wasn't _really_ a conversation, per _se_. She asked my name and then had me distract Madame Pince while she snuck into the Restricted Section," Santana explains, telling Rachel the complete story. "But she left me this note and said she'd owe me," she finishes, unraveling the small piece of parchment with a shy smile.

"So, let me get this straight. Brittany sneaks up on you and then convinces you to become an accomplice to her rule-breaking?" Rachel accuses, snatching the paper abruptly.

"Yup, that's pretty much how it went down. But now she not only knows what I look like but she also knows my NAME!" At that realization, Santana freezes, eyes widening. "Oh my god, she knows my name. Oh god, I helped her break into the Restricted Section! What do you think she was doing in there? Can't be up to anything good though, right? Oh god, I acted like a blubbering idiot!" Santana rambles, running her hand repeatedly through her hair with exasperation.

"Just calm down, Santana," Rachel soothes, grabbing Santana's hands to still them. "It's not like YOU actually snuck in there, right? And you didn't get caught so no harm, no foul. Plus you're no longer invisible AND Brittany knows your name. Eeek! I'm so proud of you!" she squeals, before throwing her arms around Santana and hugging her hard.

"Oof! Easy, Berry," Santana chides affectionately, returning the hug stiffly. "Now we need to talk about where you and TrollBoy are allowed to make out…"

* * *

That night, Santana lies awake in the girl's dormitory, eyes tracing the moonlight painting the ceiling in a long arc and counting Rachel's snores when she hears the faintest tapping on the window behind her headboard. She ignores it at first, only finally sitting up and squinting against the moonlight and out the window as the taps get louder and more persistent. There's a dark silhouette within the window frame, and it takes Santana's eyes a moment to adjust as she grabs her glasses off the bedside table and pushes them up the bridge of her nose. Santana feels her stomach drop suddenly because hovering outside her window in mid-air is Brittany, grinning widely and motioning her to open up. Santana looks behind her to ensure none of her dorm mates have woken up before turning back and cracking open the window.

"What are you doing?!" Santana hisses incredulously, leaning out onto the sill to find Brittany perched upon her racing broom.

"Well, I owed you for that little distraction in the library earlier today, so I'm paying up," Brittany hushes. "Now get on."

Santana feels her mouth fall open. "Um, what?"

"Get on," Brittany repeats, turning in mid-air to expose the back side of her broom and scooting up to give Santana room.

"I don't know, I'm not very good on a broom by myself, never mind sharing one," Santana hesitates.

"Don't be such a worry wort, Santana," Brittany teases, beckoning her once more with a nod of her head. Santana doesn't miss the way her own fingers start to tingle with electricity at the sound of Brittany saying her name. She should care more about her ratty and hole-strewn sleep shirt and what she looks like without makeup, but the butterflies pinging violently around her gut propel her forward as she climbs awkwardly through the open window, placing a sweaty palm on Brittany's shoulder and throwing a leg over the back of the broom.

"Hold on tight," Brittany whispers over her shoulder, throwing Santana a grin and shooting off into the starry night. Santana barely manages to clasp her hands around Brittany's middle before all she hears is rushing wind and the pulse of her own thumping heart.

Santana tries not to think about how every part of her body that touches Brittany's feels like fiendfyre.

* * *

_Note: felix culpa is Latin for "fortunate fault" (Gryffindor common room password)_


	4. Part 4

i am having so much fun writing this it's insane.

side note: i never have anyone proof these aside from me, so if i have any volunteers i'm way open to that.

* * *

Santana swallows a scream and presses her cheek flush into Brittany's back, clenching her arms even tighter around Brittany's torso as they careen forward into the night. Loose blonde hair whips around her face as Santana feels them climb higher and higher over the grounds.

"Open your eyes!" Brittany yells, laughing and leaning further forward to urge the broom faster and faster into the open sky. Santana wonders how Brittany knows she's not looking, but cracks open one eye warily all the same, tracking the ragged line where the mountains touch the sky and swearing not to look down. She swallows the nausea with a dry choke, reminding herself that Brittany is the best flyer at Hogwarts and to keep breathing.

Her stomach lurches up into her throat as Brittany pulls the broom into a sudden dive, clutching impossibly tighter by knotting her hands into Brittany's shirt and letting out a terrified yet exhilarated scream. Santana feels Brittany laughing before she hears it, her stomach muscles vibrating and humming with amusement at Santana's petrified behavior.

Santana also feels electric in a way she never has before.

After a quick free-fall, Brittany pulls up from the dive and rights the broom fluidly, slowing to a more leisurely pace before paralyzing Santana for another reason altogether. Brittany's breath tickles against the shell of Santana's ear in short puffs, raising goosebumps all over and accelerating Santana's racing heart beat as she whispers, "open your eyes, Santana."

And she does.

Santana gasps sharply as they fly _just _higher than the water level of the lake, the surface a rippling blanket of stars casting a stunning reflection of the clear sky overhead.

"Wow," Santana breathes, loosening her grip significantly and reaching down with an extended finger to cut through the otherwise calm water, marveling how each star blurs and flickers like blinking twinkle lights.

"Beautiful," Brittany exhales, although Santana is too preoccupied by the moonlight and stars to notice Brittany is looking at her instead.

* * *

After skimming the distance across the lake, Brittany turns the broom back towards the castle, flying in a wide, lazy arc over the edge of the Forbidden Forest, passing high over Hagrid's hut and weaving up through the many towers protruding from the castle. Santana keeps her eyes open now, appreciating for the first time the enormity and beauty of the castle from the air, the way each tower stands erect and formidable in the darkness but burn warmly with candle light from within.

It hits her suddenly how much this castle feels like home.

* * *

Brittany flies the broom to the highest point of the castle, landing sure-footed and gracefully upon the floor of the Astronomy Tower, holding steady while Santana climbs off. Santana suddenly feels much colder without being pressed around Brittany and shivers involuntarily.

"Isn't the Astronomy tower off limits after hours?" she whispers, looking around worriedly.

"Sure is!" Brittany chirps, eyes shining deviously and shooting Santana a wide smile.

"Are you trying to get me expelled?"

"Nah, you just looked like you needed to calm down," Brittany counters, amused. "Not a flyer, huh?" She beckons Santana over to where she leans with folded arms over the railing, turning her head towards the heavens. "C'mere, I'll quiz you on your constellations. Consider it practice for next year's O. ," her voice trailing off as she notices Santana hasn't followed.

Brittany's gaze softens as she watches Santana trail her fingers lightly across the plaque fixed upon an elegant phoenix-shaped pillar in the center of the tower. The single candle set there burns brightly as always, the wax never melting nor dripping off the taper. An everlasting flame.

_"Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times,_

_when one only remembers to turn on the light."_

_In Memoriam of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_Hogwarts Headmaster, 1956-1997_

"Did you ever meet him?" Brittany asks gently.

"I wish," Santana laments in a small voice. "I've heard stories from my mom and dad though, stories from when they went to school here and then the war. But no. I sure wish I had though."

"Me too," Brittany whispers, suddenly appearing right next to Santana in front of the candle, close enough to touch. Santana should be surprised, but she's learning that Brittany can be incredibly sneaky and instead focuses on the way the flame flickers in Brittany's irises, orange red contrasting sharply against an ocean of blue. She forgets to breathe again, but Brittany just stares back like she's reading all Santana's secrets and drinking them up like cool water.

Santana feels that electric feeling spark at her fingertips again.

They're startled by a distant clinking, the sound of heavy chains dragging slowly across stone floors.

"That'll be the Bloody Baron," Brittany groans, scampering off to grab her broom. "We gotta get out of here," she calls, climbing onto the broom and hovering a few inches off the floor. "Professor Flitwick only allows me so much leeway, and I'm setting a bad enough example stealing you from bed after hours. And a Prefect no less!"

When she holds out her hand, Santana takes it without hesitation, climbing on easily before they take off once more into the night.

* * *

Santana falls asleep quickly, her dreams that night filled with flying broomsticks, shooting stars and _Brittany, Brittany, Brittany_.


	5. Part 5

sorry it's taken so long for me to update this 'verse.

thanks to all you lovely people for reading these random thoughts i have.

* * *

The next time Santana sees Brittany is one long drawn-out week later and from the stands of the quidditch pitch during the house cup final. Ravenclaw is taking on Slytherin for the second consecutive year, with Ravenclaw vying for their first finals win in ten years. Santana and her fellow Gryffindors, hell the entire school aside from the Slytherins themselves, are rooting boisterously for a Ravenclaw win. Santana is sandwiched between Rachel, who is once again sucking face with Finn, and her other best friend, Mercedes Jones, who is also more interested in trouty-pillow-lipped Sam Evans than the match itself.

Normally Santana would be gagging and fake throwing up at their disgusting public displays of affection, but she is practically on a different planet as she leans precariously forward onto the edge of her seat, her eyes never leaving Brittany's zig-zagging form as she hovers, dips and dives all around the arena.

Ravenclaw is currently up by 20 points one hour into the match and Brittany is floating high above the rest of the action and moving in slow, lazy loops as she looks out for any flashes of the elusive golden snitch.

Suddenly, Santana hears a loud "thwack!" and a collective groan from the crowd, taking her eyes off Brittany for a moment as one of the Slytherin chasers leers dangerously off her broom after getting hit square in the chest by a well-aimed bludger.

By the time she looks back up, Brittany is gone.

Santana feels a staccato of panic before spotting a blur of navy and silver robes beelining towards the level of the grass, streaking at a speed that doesn't seem humanly possible on a broom. Her jaw hangs half open as she realizes that Brittany must have spotted the snitch in the commotion and is now in hot pursuit. It takes the Slytherin seeker a few seconds to realize he's already nearly blown it before he also shoots off to give chase.

By now Santana and the rest of the students are all standing and hollering as both seekers seem to be streaking along the same trajectory, doomed to collide. Brittany has one hand off the broom, fingers extended and reaching as far forward as possible without knocking herself off-balance. She doesn't see her opponent barreling directly for her.

"That ass hole is going to hit her!" Santana shouts, her hand reflexively reaching to pull her wand from the pocket of her jacket. She feels a hand press quickly against her clenched fingers, pushing the wand back down and out of sight as Brittany and the Slytherin seeker get closer and closer still.

"Have you completely lost it?" Rachel whispers urgently, her eyes bugging half way out of her head and Santana's rash behavior. "You CAN'T…"

But before Rachel can finish her thought, there is a collective gasp as the Slytherin seeker slams into Brittany with the force of the Hogwarts Express, knocking her clear off the broom and into a free fall back to the ground.

"NO!" Santana yells, throwing both hands out as if to catch Brittany's falling form in mid-air.

_ARRESTO MOMENTUM, GOD DAMN IT, ARRESTO MOMENTUM _she thinks, more desperate than she's felt in her whole life.

Brittany's falling form freezes in mid-air just before crashing into the ground, hovering face-first with her limbs splayed out like a starfish a half-second before falling softly onto the grass.

No one in the whole stadium seems to be breathing, not even Lacey Jordan, who normally doesn't shut up with her play-by-play. Santana feels completely paralyzed as she stares down at Brittany's still form, imploring her to be okay and thinking of how best to maim or disfigure the Slytherin seeker for intentionally trying to take her out.

Suddenly Brittany lifts a fist and there's a small enough flash of gold that the entire stadium (all except the supporters in green) erupts in exultation.

"Merlin's boots, she's DONE IT!" Lacy shouts emphatically into the microphone, her voice resonating around the pitch. "BRITTANY PIERCE HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH, RAVENCLAW WINS!"

Santana falls back into her seat in relief that Brittany is okay and complete and utter shock that she just managed her first wordless spell.

* * *

"But who cast the spell to slow her down, I wonder? I bet it was Madame Hooch, don't you think? Safety and integrity of the game and all," Rachel babbles as they file down the many flights of stairs from the stands back to the grounds. "Santana? Are you even listening to me? Helloooo?"

"Hm?" she answers distractedly, pushing herself up every so often onto her tip toes in an attempt to see the on-field celebrations and get a glimpse of blonde hair.

"Brittany. She was about to come to a rather untimely end but instead someone stopped her from hitting the deck, don't you think that's unusual?" Rachel pesters, tugging insistently on the sleeve of Santana's jacket. Santana swats her hand away dismissively as she continues to push through the crowd.

She runs into Professor McGonagall before she has the chance to reach the field.

"And where do you think you're going, Miss Lopez?" Professor McGonagall inquires.

"Well, I just wanted to see if…"

"She's already gone up to the hospital wing. And don't you have some studying to get to? Finals do start tomorrow and I know for a fact you haven't yet mastered transfiguring the crow into the water goblet."

"Yes, ma'am," Santana answers dejectedly, turning to follow the mass of students as they make their way back up the hill through the grounds and to the castle.

* * *

Santana spends the rest of the afternoon and evening holed up in the library and studying for her finals. She sits at the same secluded table in the back corner by the Restricted Section where she had her first interaction with Brittany, hoping the table will bring her some luck.

She's half way through her Care of Magical Creatures final essay on Nifflers and their use in treasure hunting after the end of the Roman occupation of Britain when someone drags a chair out from the table and sits down.

Brittany has one arm in a sling but otherwise seems giddy as can be, leaning in closer to Santana and reading from her parchment. "Ooooh I love Nifflers! Brilliant little fellas, and so cute!"

Santana feels her mouth dry up and heartbeat start to race almost instantaneously. She opens her mouth to answer, but can't seem to form words, instead dumbly opening and closing her jaw like a floundering fish.

"You have very pretty handwriting," Brittany eases, tracing a finger over Santana's name at the top of the parchment.

Santana clears her throat roughly before mumbling "um, thanks." She pauses while she thinks about what to say next, Brittany turning to smile at her and taking her breath away again.

"So did you watch the.."

"Are you okay?" Santana interrupts, reaching out to finger the edges of the sling pinning Brittany's left arm to her chest, her face frowning in concern.

"Oh this? Sure. That dum dum Newton knew I was about to beat his ass so he tried to take me out. Unfortunately for him I have extraordinarily long arms for my height and snatched that little snitchy-snitch before he could say hippogriff!" she explains, cheerily. "Just a dislocated elbow and some bruising, nothing to worry about. Madame Pomfrey says I'll be good as new by the morning."

Santana finally feels herself exhale at the news, her anxiety visibly ebbing and relief crashing like a wave. "Good."

"Professor McGonagall says someone cast a slowing charm on me right before I hit the ground. Know anything about that?" Brittany asks, a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips.

Santana feels herself pale. "What? Um, no. I mean. Yes, I saw it happen, but, no it wasn't me, I was barely even watching with Tweedledee and Tweedledum both sucking face on either side of me," she rambles.

"Santana Lopez, you are a rotten liar," Brittany chides, reaching her good hand into her pocket.

"I couldn't let you fall," Santana mumbles, guiltily. "I didn't even really _mean _to, I just thought a spell and suddenly it worked."

She feels Brittany lean close and exhale a "thank you" against the shell of her ear, all the while pressing something small and metal into her palm and closing Santana's fingers around it. "For rescuing me, knight in shining armor," Brittany whispers, before placing a feather soft kiss to her cheek and pushing herself up from the table.

"I have to get back, my teammates are already wondering where I am, I'm sure. Celebrations for the big win and all that. Good luck on your finals, Santana."

And she's gone before Santana has a chance to say goodbye, the golden snitch Brittany caught still clasped tight in her sweaty and shaking hand, her essay and train of thought long forgotten.


	6. Part 6

happy world cup day!

as always, thanks to all you who read/like/reblog/bug me for updates. makes it so much more fun to write. enjoy!

* * *

Santana spends nearly all her waking hours of the next four days secluded at her usual table in the recesses of the library, always hoping in the back of her mind for another surprise visit from Brittany, but the days pass without sight of her.

Santana supposes Brittany has exams to study for, too.

* * *

Aside from botching her poison antidote on the first attempt and having to start over during her Potions final, Santana is confident she aced the rest of her exams.

As she scratches out the last of her answers on her Care of Magical Creatures test and lays down her quill, the exhaustion and stress of finals week floats away in an instant, the triumph of completing her fourth year radiating from her like sunlight.

She lets her mind wander as she climbs the Grand Staircase back up to the common room, one hand tugging at the knot in her tie to loosen it and the other reaching into the pocket of her robes to finger the golden snitch she has taken to carrying as a lucky charm. She wonders when Brittany will finish her finals and if they'll see each other again before the Hogwarts Express takes them all back to King's Cross in the morning. She hopes so.

The Fat Lady is once again not pleased to see her, but Santana is in too good a mood to care, climbing through the portrait hole and up the stairs to the girls dormitory. Mercedes, Rachel and their other roommate, Tina, are all still holed up in the Great Hall finishing up the last exam, so Santana throws down her bag and falls into her bed, happy to have the quiet time to catch a quick nap.

* * *

Santana wakes up to the worst alarm clock she can think of.

"…upset with myself for forgetting the fourth repelling property of Manticore skin. And the way Professor.."

"Rachel for Dumbledore's sake will you PLEASE shut up!" Mercedes gripes, groaning in frustration. "I gave you the entire walk back from the Great Hall to bitch and moan about whatever questions you forgot the answers for, but we have now made it back to the tower and that means your time is up! Let it go already because now we're FREE! And officially fifth years!" She does a little dance in the middle of the room, wiggling her hips and swinging her tie over her head like a propellor as the rest of the girls whoop and cheer.

"Do you guys mind? I was taking a nap in here," Santana whines, sandwiching her head between two pillows.

"You can sleep when you're dead, Satan, it's time to celebrate," Mercedes chides, crossing the room to pull the top pillow off Santana and whacking her with it. "Get up and get out of that god-awful uniform 'cause Mercedes Jones has organized one of her famous shindigs for this evening and we need to be looking our best!"

"Important question," Santana starts, but Rachel interrupts her quickly, stepping right in between Santana's line of sight on her tip toes to catch Mercedes's eye.

"How many songs will I be allowed to sing?" Rachel asks, before she gets a swift push in the back from Santana and stumbles forward.

"Dream on, Berry," Santana snaps. "I'm either going to spike your punch with a sleeping draught or bribe Finnocence to swap saliva with you all night in the back corner to keep that orifice of a mouth occupied. We don't need a repeat of the Christmas party where you barfed mid-song onto that first year. Poor little Abby never quite recovered."

"That was once, Santana, and how was I supposed to know that Artie had spiked the eggnog?" Rachel whines. "I simply must demand at least one opportunity to display my vocal talents."

"Sorry, Rach, but that just ain't happening, so you best be getting over it now. And Satan, you better be wearing that red dress you've been hiding in the bottom of your trunk, don't think you can hide that in there forever!"

Santana feels her face redden immediately as she lets out a loud groan. "How did you even know about that?" she asks, incredulous.

"That's none of your concern. And I bet Brittany will love it," Mercedes sing-songs mischievously as Santana freezes half way through pulling her sweater over her head.

"Brittany's going?" Santana's voice is muffled but hesitant through the wool, the butterflies launched into action pinging around her insides.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Mercedes plays, smirking across the room at a now deeply flustered Santana. "Let's get a move on, y'all. I'm gonna need all hands on deck to help decorate, not to mention I've gotta meet my brother in 20 through Arianna's portrait. He's sneaking us in the booze!"

Santana gulps audibly down her suddenly dry throat, her nerves already on fire.

* * *

The end of year feast passes quickly, the Great Hall draped in deep navy blue accented with silver, the Ravenclaw coat of arms flying proudly among the floating candles and star-studded bewitched ceiling. Brittany's quidditch heroics earned Ravenclaw the points they needed to push them over Gryffindor in the House Cup, and Santana keeps flitting her eyes across the hall to Brittany who is the center of attention, being pat heartily on the back by every single Ravenclaw throughout dinner. She manages the celebrity gracefully, smiling in appreciation but brushing it off as no big deal.

Santana feels herself burn with something like pride.

She chokes on her turkey leg when Brittany suddenly looks up and catches her staring, winking in her direction before her attention is stolen by yet another bout of congratulations.

* * *

Santana slips into _that_ dress after dinner before filing out of the common room behind Mercedes, Rachel, Finn and Tina as they make their way across the castle, chatting idly about upcoming summer plans.

Mercedes paces back and forth three times in the empty hallway before the door of the Room of Requirement materializes, opening it with a flourish and ear-to-ear smile.

"Ladies," she eases, pointing them inside the room. "Finn, you're on door duty. You know the signal and protocol if you see any sign of a professor, Filch, ghosts or Peeves."

"You got it," Finn salutes, loping to hold open the door and closing it as they cross through the threshold.

Santana had been in the Room of Requirement more than a few times over her years at Hogwarts, but never has it looked like this. The room is long and tall with lofted cathedral ceilings and thousands of twinkle lights hanging from the flying buttresses stretching across the room. Candles are lit and floating throughout, casting a warm glow across the entire room. Small tables are clustered towards the back by the refreshments table and long couches line each wall, covered in hundreds of throw pillows. The middle of the room is wide open into a large dance floor and Santana loses her breath at how perfect their preparations turned out.

"You've outdone yourself this time, 'Cedes." Santana congratulates her with a one-armed hug before grabbing her hand and tugging her towards the back of the room. "Firewhiskeys all around!" she cheers, pouring shots for the four of them.

They all hold up their glasses for a toast as Rachel clears her throat, but Mercedes beats her to the punch. "To surviving fourth year relatively unscathed," she calls.

"To being fifth years!" Tina adds.

"To love," Rachel finishes, winking in Santana's direction.

"Let's get on with it, then," Santana murmurs, rolling her eyes as she throws her head back, the alcohol licking fire from her lips all the way to the pit of her stomach and only increasing the desperate flapping of butterfly wings.

The door swings open as the first group of partygoers file in, none other than Santana's favorite frenemy Quinn Fabray leading the way and stealing all the attention from the room. "Let's get this party started!" Quinn shouts, crossing the room fluidly and dumping a few more bottles of firewhiskey onto the table.

"Congrats on blowing the House Cup, losers," Quinn sneers, elbowing Santana playfully in the ribs. "Brittany Fucking Pierce managing to snatch that trophy right out of your cold dead fingers. You know what they say about being second best," antagonism dripping from her candy-coated voice.

"Oh eat, slugs, Fabray. At least we didn't try to cheat to win, but I guess that comes with the territory when you're sorted into Slytherin, doesn't it?"

Quinn throws her head back laughing before pouring both her and Santana a large shot.

* * *

An hour later, the party is in full swing and Santana is already feeling looser and lighter on her feet then she has in weeks, the stress of end of term far behind her as she bobs up and down the middle of the dance floor surrounded by a pack of other students, the alcohol coursing through her body with every pulse.

Suddenly she feels the air in the room change ever-so-slightly in a way she can't quite place, her fingertips tingling with the slightest bit of electricity. Looking around, no one else seems to have noticed a thing, but she catches a glimpse of flowing blonde hair and the air escapes her chest in a rush. Brittany did come, and she's perched on her tiptoes at the edge of the dance floor searching the room, a grin spreading across her face at the sight of Santana before mumbling something over her shoulder to the friends behind her and moving to push through the crowd in Santana's direction.


	7. Part 7

if you didn't know, 7 years ago on this day, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was released. i just had to post a new part today because FEELINGS I HAVE SO MANY OF THEM. coincidentally, this also happens to be the 7th part of this little world.

as always, thank you for reading and all the kind words of support. you are all fluffy pygmy puffs that i want to cuddle and squeeze.

* * *

Santana feels Brittany's hands glance against her waist as she tries not to keep staring back into the crowd, licks of flame igniting her muscles as she slowly turns.

"Santana," Brittany exhales, eyeing her up and down amid the bumping crowd of sweaty bodies in the middle of the dance floor with a dazed but smiling expression. "You look…"

"I thought you said you were done with this today?" Santana interrupts, reaching to tug softly on the fabric of Brittany's sling that is still pinning her injured arm across her torso. Santana feels her brow furrow as she watches tips of Brittany's ears pink like blooming roses.

"Well, I may have lied a teeny bit about that yesterday," Brittany evades, the right corner of her lips pulling into a bashful half-grin. "But I'm okay, I promise. This is nothing compared to the time I accidentally snuck up on my neighbor's hippogriff." She bends a knee to catch Santana's eye and Santana can't help but crack a smile mid-scowl, shaking her head back and forth as her concern melts away like candle wax.

"How long then, really?"

"One week, tops."

"Mmhmm," Santana clucks her tongue disapprovingly before she feels a sudden warmth and weight of a body slung over her shoulder.

"Are you going to dance, Lopez, or are you just going to stand there like a stupefied troll?" Quinn oozes pressing into Santana's side and pressing their heads together. Brittany's brow knits slightly but she recovers quickly into a polite smile, straightening up unconsciously to her full height.

"Hi, she's busy," Quinn challenges, tugging on Santana's elbow to turn her back into their circle of dancing friends.

"Quinn, don't be a dick," Santana chides, slipping out from Quinn's hold and shooting her a glare. "This is…"

"I know who she is," Quinn interrupts curtly, turning to eye Brittany up and down skeptically. "Brittany S. Pierce, Ravenclaw extraordinaire, quidditch super star, friend to all creatures big and small, darling among the professors and from what I hear, a shoe-in for Head Girl next year. Although I _will_ say I'm surprised she's slumming it by talking with a nobody like you, Lopez."

Brittany remains perfectly composed throughout Quinn's evaluation, her friendly smile unwavering despite the bile oozing from Quinn's tone. "Quinn Fabray, I gather? Pleasure," Brittany drawls, bowing slightly and holding her free hand out to shake. Quinn looks like she would rather lick Moaning Myrtle's toilet bowl then take it.

"That's enough," Santana snaps, turning between them both and shoving Quinn lightly backward on both shoulders with enough force to make a point. "Do yourself a favor and stay away from the fire whiskey, it makes you meaner than usual. Now if you don't mind, get lost. I'll catch up with you later."

Quinn shoots Brittany one last hard look before turning on her heel and disappearing back into the crowd. Santana watches her pull a handsome boy with a furry mohawk by the tie into a risque dance.

"Well she's certainly pleasant, isn't she?"

"Pleasant is one word for it," Santana scoffs, rolling her eyes before cracking a smile. "Sorry about that. We've been friends since we were in diapers, and she tends to get… protective," Santana explains, feeling herself start to ramble. She's still not used to the rapid pace of her heart whenever Brittany is in close proximity, and is there _actually_ electricity humming from her fingertips or is that simply her imagination?

Brittany doesn't speak, but continues to let her eyes wander up and down Santana's dress-clad body. Santana revels in the the Brittany-induced elation but feels immensely overdressed now that Brittany's here and looking perfect as could be in jeans that hug her long, lean legs just right and a well-worn in grey Chudley Cannons t-shirt.

"Can I interest you a drink, m'lady?" Brittany asks, interrupting Santana's internal monologue. "McGonagall would flay me alive and hang me from the Owelry if she knew I was both aware of this little get-together and serving a pretty underage witch illicit drinks, so how about a Butterbeer? Just to ease my conscience a bit."

"I'd like that," Santana laughs, meeting Brittany's gaze quickly before following her out of the crowd. Santana nearly chokes when she feels Brittany reach back and grab her hand loosely, leading her through the crowd.

* * *

They make it halfway across the room before there's a commotion towards the front entrance. Santana turns sharply towards the sound of shouting before there's a series of small explosions and the room begins to fill with a thick, black, choking smoke.

"Is that…"

"Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. That's the signal that we're about to get busted, we have to get out of here now," Santana rushes, tugging Brittany to the far side of the room at a half-jog and trying not to stumble in her high heels. "There's another way out through here," Santana calls over her shoulder, although she can barely see Brittany at this point, the room is so clouded with smoke. She shoulders through panicked bodies and keeps her grip tight on Brittany's fingers, pressing forward until she reaches the near wall. "Now we just gotta find the…" she mumbles, feeling with her free hand along the wall. "Here!" she exclaims, finding and toppling over an ornate golden high-backed chair resembling a throne and reaching down to the floor. She tugs on the ring of the trap door and heaves it open with a slam.

"Trap door. Can you make it down with one arm?" Santana worries, her voice shaking with concern.

"I think so," Brittany answers, lowering herself gingerly through the mouth of the passage and securing her footholds on the ladder below. Santana climbs in quickly behind her and yanks the door shut to keep out the billowing black smoke from trailing them.

Brittany could kiss her chances of becoming Head Girl goodbye if she's caught and Santana's brain runs a mile-a-minute through her escape plan: down the trap door to the sixth floor corridor, beeline for the corner staircase and descend to the fourth floor where they can either find the secret passage behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy and follow it out to the grounds or they can make their way back to their respective dormitories if the coast is clear.

They stop somewhere along the fourth floor corridor to catch their breaths, Santana leaning with both hands on her knees and trying to breathe deep enough to calm both her haywire nerves and the rush of adrenaline that still courses along her limbs.

Brittany giggles somewhere over her right shoulder and Santana turns to her, incredulous.

"You're laughing? Seriously? I could have gotten us both expelled!"

Brittany snorts. "Expelled? Hardly. It's not the first time there's been a secret end-of-term party that's been broken up in this castle and it certainly won't be the last. That was some first-class Houdini disappearing work by you in there, though. I think I underestimated you, rebel," Brittany jokes, smiling brightly through slightly winded breaths and running a hand through her long blonde hair to tame it.

Santana feels her face flush immediately, averting her eyes to the nearby portrait of Sedley Smirkpaltter currently snoring in his frame. "I just like to be prepared," she trails off, lamely.

She hears Brittany sigh and turns to meet her eyes. "I really should go back up there and make sure my students get back to their dormitories," Brittany explains, pointing vaguely in the direction of the Room of Requirement upstairs and Santana thinks she detects the slightest hint of regret in her voice at the admission.

"Oh, erm, right, yeah. Prefect and all," she answers, looking back towards Brittany. "Well, I'm glad you came, even if it was only for a second." Santana tries to hide her disappointment, but doesn't think she's very convincing.

"Me too," Brittany agrees. "And don't think I'll forget about that Butterbeer. If I don't see you on the train tomorrow, enjoy your summer, Santana."

"Thanks, you too," Santana answers with a shy smile. She tries to think of something else to say but comes up empty. Shocking.

Brittany takes three steps away before turning back suddenly, trotting to Santana's side and kissing her quickly on the cheek. "Bye!" she throws over her shoulder as she trots away.

Santana feels her throat go dry and jaw slacken as she watches Brittany's retreating form turn the corner towards the Grand Staircase and out of sight. It takes her a good five minutes before she can force any of her limbs to move, keeping her palm pressed over her still-warm cheek. She can't help the ear-to-ear smile from bursting across her face as she starts the trek back up to Gryffindor Tower to pack her trunk.


	8. Part 8

two parts in one day, holy smokes! i'm telling you, SO MANY HP feels i am not equipped. also i didn't edit this one much, sorry 'bout it.

thanks for spending part of your day in my head.

* * *

The next morning, Santana looks for Brittany at breakfast, but there's no sign of her at the Ravenclaw table or anywhere else in the Great Hall.

"…and if it wasn't for Finn, we'd all be serving detention today and doing Merlin knows what," Rachel lectures, pointing a finger at Santana, Mercedes and Sam one after the other, her tone dripping with condescension as if she were against the idea of a party from the very beginning.

She wasn't.

"…scooping up blast-ended-skrewt poop was dreadful enough the first time, thank you very much," Rachel begrudges, mostly to herself, but Finn nods along all the same.

"Look, all that matters is that Finn gave us enough warning to get out before Filch showed up. We're all going home in an hour anyways, so let's enjoy our last breakfast," Mercedes says warningly from across the table, rubbing away a headache at the bridge of her nose. She looks like she's seen better mornings and Santana hides her grin in her goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Well, while we're on the topic, how exactly _did_ you get out last night, Santana?" asks Rachel, her inflection dripping with knowing a juicy secret.

"And with _whom_?" adds Mercedes, raising her eyebrows accusingly, a forkful of pancake hovering just outside her mouth.

"I totally saw her talking with Brittany."

Leave it to Tina to finally pipe up at this very moment. Santana looks down to her eggs, feeling three pairs of eyes boring into her forehead. Her face is getting hotter by the second and she swallows a mouthful before answering.

"Um yeah, I was with Brittany. She had just shown up and we were going to get a drink," she explains, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for her, Santana Lopez, to be casually chatting with Brittany Pierce, Ravenclaw hero.

"And then you what when Mike set off the powder?" Mercedes still hasn't eaten that forkful and Santana watches the syrup drip down onto the plate in long, thin strands.

"I took her out the trap door. You know, we _always_ make sure to wish for the trap door. Under that gaudy throne thing? By that portrait of the nuns?" Santana watches the looks of realization ripple across her friend's faces and rolls her eyes. "Then we made it down to the fourth floor corridor before she went on Prefect duty and I went up to our room to pack. Nothing happened."

Santana tries in vain to prevent the smile from twitching at the corner of her lips, but Mercedes and Rachel squeal simultaneously and Santana knows she's been caught.

"Santana Lopez, you tell us what you are hiding this instant or I will steal that golden snitch I know she gave you and toss it into the desecrated Room of Hidden Things," Rachel warns, a sassy hand on her hip and indignant look on her face.

"She gave you the snitch?" Finn pokes his oafish head over the table around Rachel with his mouth hanging open. "From the finals? The quidditch championship, House Cup-winning, kick-the-Gryffindors-right-between-the-teeth golden snitch?"

Santana hadn't really thought of it that way.

It is true that Brittany's game-winning catch scored Ravenclaw house enough points to beat out Gryffindor for the House Cup. And it did just happen less than 24 hours ago. Santana would do well by her friends and everyone else in her house to remember that.

"Yeah, that's the one."

They all blink as if they had never seen her before, except Rachel, who is nothing but smug.

"I may have accidentally cast a silent _arresto momentum _spell when Brittany was knocked off her broom and maybe saved her life? That's a long way to free-fall and it kind of just… happened. Then she figured out somehow that I did it, and voila." Santana pulls the snitch from her pocket and flashes it briefly.

"Smooth," Sam commends, reaching across the table to give Santana a high-five.

Before Santana knows it, Rachel has moved on to babbling gossip with Tina and Mercedes concerning the other events witnessed at the party and Santana half-listens to Sam and Finn debate who will win the quidditch World Cup and whether Holland truly has what it takes this year.

Santana doesn't see Brittany on her way out of the castle or during the carriage ride to Hogsmeade Station. Her stomach sinks with a swoop.

She finds Quinn in an otherwise open compartment and Rachel, Mercedes, Finn and Sam file in after her. Santana wants to pretend to sleep to avoid having to talk anymore, but she also doesn't want to miss the chance that Brittany is on Prefect patrol and may pass through the carriage.

"…and what about you, Santana?" Rachel asks. Santana looks dumbly toward her and realizes she hasn't been listening to anything that her friends are talking about.

"Hey, space cadet!" Quinn snaps her fingers nearly on top of Santana's nose. "Get it together. She's not even within gawking distance. The least you could do is be present with us. Wizard's Chess. Winner buys from the snack trolley."

"Fine," Santana agrees, mostly because chess is a lot of thinking, a lot of distraction and not a lot of talking.

"Checkmate."

Santana groans and reaches for her pursestring as the carriage door slides open to reveal the snack trolley. Quinn takes one of everything and cackles at Santana as she hands over the correct change, frowning as she reaches for a chocolate frog and settles back into the seat.

She pulls open the side of the box carefully, readying her hand as she cracks open the lid and grabs swiftly at the frog before it has the chance to spring for freedom. _Gotcha_, she thinks, satisfied. She hasn't always been so lucky.

When the spell wears off and she's munching on chocolate, Santana pulls the card out from the bottom of the box. A seventeen year old Harry Potter stares back at her, a quiet smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, eyes a vibrant and friendly green. Her eyes move unconsciously to to the scar on his forehead, which is faintly pink and just visible beneath his disheveled black mop of hair. _The Boy Who Lived_.

Santana wonders what it would have been like to have been in school during the war. Classmates with Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Would she have fought alongside them in the Battle of Hogwarts? Would she had lived if she had? It's daunting what they had to face so young. Santana feels a swell of pride for being a Gryffindor.

She watches as the moving picture of Harry reaches up to push his glasses slightly higher onto his nose when a flash of blonde flashes through her periphery. Santana's eyes find Brittany quick as lightning, her long frame leaning lazily against a compartment door and chatting amicably with someone Santana doesn't recognize.

"I, um," Santana starts, fumbling over her own tongue. "I've gotta pee," she finishes, standing quickly and slipping out of the compartment door.

Brittany catches her eye over the stranger's shoulder and ends the conversation quickly, smiling brightly before moving in Santana's direction.

"Well, fancy seeing you here," Brittany drawls in her best wild west accent. "May I escort you somewhere on this here train?"

"Oh actually, I came out here to see you," Santana answers, shyly. Santana thinks watching Brittany's ears turn pink is one of her favorite things.

"Well, in that case, want to come see the Prefect's digs? We get our own train car, although we hardly ever use it." Brittany's easy smile disarms Santana quickly and she can only nod, following Brittany down the length of the train and wishing she could grab her hand.


	9. Part 9

A/N: A special hi to all of you out there in the non-Tumblr world but who are now reading this little fic now that it's on ff . net . Thanks for all of those who have followed, favorited and subscribed to this story, you are all shiny golden galleons and I appreciate the hell out of each and every one of you. I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend!

* * *

As they continue to make their way back towards the tail end of the train, Santana marvels at the sheer number of people that Brittany seems to know. She even addresses some shy first-years by their first names, smiling brightly with a quick accompanying wave as her and Santana pass by.

They reach the caboose and Brittany pulls her wand from her back pocket and waves it quickly in front of the compartment, mumbling something under her breath Santana can't make out.

The door slides open with a flourish and Brittany steps back, extending her good arm towards the open door to let Santana pass through first. "After you." Brittany's smile is somewhat shy which seems unusual and Santana's heart quickens even more.

"Welcome to the big leagues," Brittany jokes, looking around the room. Santana figured the Prefect car would look like the rest of the student compartments on the train, but there are shelves overflowing with books, games and snacks of all kinds, a tiny private bathroom and a smattering of furniture that looks comfortably broken in.

An enormous grey tiger-striped tabby cat slinks across the room and winds its way between Brittany's legs, meowing loudly until Brittany reaches down to scratch between the beast's ears.

"This is Lord Tubbington, my cat. Tubs for short. Tubs, meet Santana."

"That is the fattest cat I've ever seen," Santana laughs, crouching down and holding her hand out for examination by the monster. It hisses at her, the hair on his back standing up on end.

"He can hear you, Santana," Brittany chides, "be nice!" She reaches down and coos at the cat, babbling at it adorably. "She didn't mean that, Tubs. I also didn't warn her how sensitive you are about your weight, so that's my fault. Who's a good boy?"

Santana shakes her head and stands back up, spying a pair of feet crossed over the arm of an overstuffed chair facing the back windows, someone laying across it horizontally but their face hidden from view.

Brittany seems to notice the other occupant as well, shrugging towards Santana and nodding for her to follow. Brittany glances around the chair and smiles warmly, lifting her index finger to her lips and mouthing "sleeping" before continuing on towards the door on the very back end of the train. Santana recognizes the sleeping boy as the Hufflepuff Prefect, Mike Chang, an open book titled "The Hobbit" face-down on his chest. Santana wonders what the hell a Hobbit is.

The door to the open-air platform of the train slides open of it's own accord, the wind rushing loudly into the compartment as the train speeds forward and both girls step through. Brittany leans her lower back up against the wrought iron railing and leans backwards, gazing up towards the skies, her long, blonde hair flapping wildly out behind her. Santana takes a place alongside her, resting on both forearms as she gazes out over the expansive Scottish landscape surrounding them. Rolling hills of green dwarfed by the majestic grey mountains still dusted with snow at the uppermost peaks.

Santana turns to find Brittany watching her. "What?" she asks, self consciously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that is immediately whipped back into her face.

"I'm just trying to figure you out. You're a strange nut," Brittany puzzles, her eyes squinting slightly as if she's doing calculations in her head and trying to solve the equation that is Santana.

Santana doesn't answer, but feels her face flush with heat as she looks away.

"Hey," Brittany nudges Santana's elbow with her hip and waits until Santana meets her gaze before continuing. "I like you," Brittany says, easy as if she were commenting that the sky was blue. "I hardly know a single thing about you, but I like you all the same."

Santana stops breathing, her thoughts short-circuiting at the admission, but for some reason she can't look away. That familiar electricity is buzzing up and down her entire body, an unstoppable force seemingly tugging her closer and closer to Brittany. Opposite poles of magnets inevitably pulling together when they're close enough.

"I like you too." It's barely north of a whisper, but Brittany's smile widens all the same, her eyes more incandescent than usual and flickering with something like desire.

Santana shuffles another millimeter closer, her eyes never leaving Brittany's. It's almost as if Santana has lost all control of her instincts, and she can think about nothing else but Brittany's lips, her eyes falling unconsciously to them. Her heart skips a beat when Brittany's tongue darts out quickly and runs along her top lip, moistening it. Santana swallows thickly, boldly reaching to finger the soft hem of t-shirt just above Brittany's hip while pulling in a shaking breath and leaning in even closer.

They both startle when the door slides open, Santana springing a step backwards and turning towards the interruption, a string of curses at the tip of her tongue. Mike is awake and lopes out to join them, rubbing at one eye and patting down his sleep-mussed hair with the other hand, a tired smile on his face. "Hey Britt," he greets oblivious to the moment he just intruded on and ambling up to her for a one-armed hug. "How are you feeling, champ?"

Brittany takes a second to answer, drawing a hesitant breath and shaking her head to clear it before turning on that megawatt smile. "Oh just dandy, Mikey. Mike, meet Santana. Santana, this is Mike." Santana is sure to subtly wipe the sweat from her palm on her jeans before reaching to shake his outstretched hand. "Besides being a top-notch Prefect, Mikey here is the best dancer at school. You should see him bust a move, I swear he's other worldly."

Mike grins shyly, scuffing the toe of his sneaker on the platform and mumbling a "shut up, Britt."

"I will certainly not, especially because it's true!"

"Well at least tell her that you're just as good, if not better, than I am." Santana didn't know Brittany was a dancer. When she looks to Brittany, her ears are tinged with pink again and she's throwing a playful scowl in Mike's direction like an embarrassed little sister.

"Whatever."

"It's that time again," Mike says, nodding down the length of the train and holding up and tapping his watch for Brittany to see.

"Goody," Brittany answers, her voice dripping in sarcasm. "You know how much I love patrol. You'd think we could be a little less regimented considering we're on our way home for the summer..." When she finally turns to meet Santana's eye for the first time since they were interrupted, she wears an apologetic half-smile. "Come on, I'll walk you back to your compartment," and the three of them file back into the caboose carriage and start the trek back down the length of the train.

Santana's hands won't stop shaking.

* * *

Brittany is quiet and subdued as they pass through compartment after compartment before opening one final door and holding it open for Santana to pass through. Brittany doesn't move to follow her, so Santana turns so they're face-to-face, smiling shyly and running a nervous hand through her hair just for something to do.

"I umm," she starts.

"I gotta…" Brittany says at the same time, pointing a thumb aimlessly over her shoulder, indicating that she has to go on her normal Prefect patrol round through the train.

"Right. Well, thanks for the field trip." Santana hopes Brittany doesn't recognize the shaking in her voice.

Brittany studies her for a few long moments, as if debating something in her own head. She leans in almost imperceptibly before stopping herself and smiling softly. "Bye, Santana."

And she's gone.

* * *

When Santana finally steadies her breathing and heartbeat to a manageable level, she shuffles down the hall and pulls open the door of their compartment, falling into the unoccupied space next to Mercedes.

"Where the hell have you _been_?" Rachel's tone is accusatory with the slightest hint of desperation as she reaches to swat at Santana's leg. "When you say you're going to the bathroom, you can't simply just disappear for over a _half hour_!"

"She's a big girl, Rachel," Mercedes chides, patting Santana affectionately on the knee.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks, studying Santana carefully, his brow furrowing slightly in concern. "You look like you just threw up or something..."

Santana can't stop herself from blurting out, her words jumbled together and tumbling from her lips in a jumble. "IalmostkissedBrittany."

Quinn, Mercedes and Tina all shriek "WHAT?!" at almost exactly the same time and Santana swears Rachel's squeal reaches the high pitch tones that only dogs can hear.

* * *

Santana spends the remainder of the train ride being grilled by her friends and reliving the almost-kiss over and over again inside of her own head. What in the name of Merlin came over her? Santana Zero-Game Lopez nearly kissing Pefect Brittany Pierce off the back end of the Hogwarts Express? It's like some alternate universe where Santana isn't a love-struck incompetent idiot.

When the conversation _finally _turns to a different subject and Santana is let off the proverbial hook, she stares aimlessly out the compartment and into the hallway, hoping for another run-in with Brittany that never comes.

* * *

The train finally pulls into King's Cross station in the late afternoon. As usual, the platform is a chaotic mess of luggage trolleys, screeching owls, reuniting families and friends parting ways for the summer.

As Santana's parents find her through the bustle, she hugs each of her friends quickly, promising to write and visit over the course of the break, all the while scanning the crowd for a certain tall blonde.

She doesn't see Brittany again before her parents are leading her down the platform and she crosses the magical barrier into the muggle world.


	10. Part 10

hi! considering i leave for brittanacon _tomorrow_ afternoon (!), my feels are literally consuming me. naturally, i channeled that energy into my brittana/harry potter fangirl brain and thus we have part 10.

OT is up next, most likely sometime during the con i hope?

you guys are all fizzing whizzbees, thank you for all the support and encouragement and asks and follows and reviews and kudos. enjoy :D

* * *

As Brittany sits shotgun in her mother's sedan, all she can think about is the most efficient way to get her hands on Santana Lopez's phone number.

There's her closest friend in Gryffindor, Lauren Zises, who may know have Santana's number for some reason related to their dormitories or know someone else who would. Santana can't be _that_ hard to track down. She texts Lauren quickly and leans her forehead against the glass of the window, the bustling streets and staunch grey stone buildings of metropolitan London zipping by in a blur. Brittany closes her eyes but all she is Santana staring back at her.

Brittany doesn't think anyone has ever looked at her like Santana does.

There is something about shy and mysterious Santana Lopez that she just can't shake and it both unnerves her and sets her body aflame.

Her phone buzzes in her lap. Lauren.

"_Who?_"

* * *

She almost kissed her. Santana can't even believe it herself. Like, she was leaning in and the courage came out of nowhere and it felt inevitable and… Fucking Mike Chang, nicest guy in Hufflepuff (and that's _saying_ something) strolls in and blows her moment because of _course_Brittany is friends with everyone. And Santana didn't even think to ask for her phone number. What. An. Idiot.

Santana is daydreaming again, wracking her brain on how to 'accidentally' run into Brittany this summer. Rachel is popular enough among some of the upperclassmen through the Frog Choir, so maybe she can score them an invite to one of Noah Puckerman's notorious beach parties at his grandparent's seaside cottage (which also happens to be just down the shoreline from the now infamous Shell Cottage, still occupied by Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour. Puck likes to brag about it and Santana finds it insufferable).

"What do you want for dinner, mija?" asks Santana's mother, turning towards Santana who is pinned uncomfortably in the cramped back seat between the car door and her trunk. "Santaaaaanaaa," her mother goads, snapping her fingers rapidly to get Santana's attention.

"Huh?" Santana is dumbfounded, as she had not heard a single word her mother or father had been saying the whole drive home.

"What's going on with you?" her father asks, eyeing her suspiciously through the rear view mirror.

"Nothing, why?" She answers a little too quickly and she hears her mother hum and cluck her tongue in mock disapproval. Santana watches her mom fail to hide a smile.

Although Hogwarts now felt like home after four whole school years, Santana missed her parents and was glad to see them. But the summer spread before her already feels like an eternity; a vast expanse of sticky-hot and boring lazy days in the countryside and far from Brittany Pierce. Days spent in her small hamlet of a town and doing Merlin knows what to pass the time.

* * *

Not many at Hogwarts know that both of Brittany's parents are Muggles.

Steve and Susan Pierce began noticing something was amiss with their daughter when night after night, they would find baby Brittany crawling across the hardwood floors of the upstairs of the house, having inexplicably broken out of her crib. Childproof locks, new state-of-the-art cribs, walls of pillows pressed up against the bars as barricades, yet nothing seemed to deter their bumbling blonde baby from escaping the confines of her nighttime prison. Their pediatrician brushed the escape acts off as coincidence: faulty equipment and even poor parenting, but the Pierces knew it had to be something else.

Strange things continued to happen involving Brittany throughout her young life; like the time she accompanied her mother volunteering at the local shelter and all of the animals seemed to escape from their cages at the same time, or when she was nine and her father had to pick her up from the principal's office for allegedly setting another girl's hair aflame, although there were no burns to prove it (that girl had stolen Brittany's ice cream sandwich and thrown it in the sandbox, which was just plain rude). Then there was the time when she was ten and her mother walked in on her building a Lego castle and an entire tower was floating in mid-air above the imaginary moat, as if waiting patiently for Brittany to place it properly in the keep.

All the strange happenings finally made sense the evening of Brittany's eleventh birthday.

After family dinner and scarfing birthday cake, there was a sharp rap on the door. Brittany watched her parents glance at each other in confusion before her father crossed the room and pulled open the front door, revealing a tall man with a rounded face and easy smile dressed in strange midnight-colored robes and holding a sealed envelope.

The stranger's eyes flicked briefly to Brittany and back to her father before he cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Mr. Pierce, I assume?" Brittany's father only nodded. "My name is Neville Longbottom and I'm a professor at a very prestigious school for gifted children. I'm here to present your daughter, Brittany, with this letter of acceptance," he explained, holding a thick envelope sealed with red wax extended over the threshold.

"What kind of school? I don't remember applying to any fancy schools. Susan?" asked Brittany's father, calling to his wife but not yet opening the door to indicate an invitation inside. He did, however, reach to grab the envelope, squinting down at it skeptically.

Brittany watched as the corners of the man's mouth pulled up into a smirk before winking at her quickly and looking back to Brittany's father. "It's a lot to explain, but your daughter is incredibly gifted. Do you mind if I come in? I would love a cup of tea after the long journey I've had."

"Erm, sure, yeah I guess," answered Brittany's dad, turning the letter over in his hands and bringing the envelope closer to his face to get a better look at the crest pressed into the wax.

Little did Brittany know how much this man, Neville Longbottom, would change her life, introducing her into a whole new world where she wasn't considered so much of a freak. Brittany started at Hogwarts a few short months later and never looked back.

* * *

It had been three days since Santana had gotten home from school and she was already bored to tears. She decided she was desperate enough to call Rachel after her fourth straight episode of Forensic Files reruns.

"Yeah, Rachel, I know… Will you… But… Yeah, I know, I just…" Santana sputters over the phone, trying to interrupt Rachel who has been spewing on about every minute detail of her past few days.

"…and my dads totally argued for like ten whole minutes in the middle of the store over what color drapes…" Santana groans loudly, slapping her palm to her forehead.

"Am I boring you, Santana?" Rachel asks, haughtily.

"Are you kidding? Can you hear yourself right now? Listening to Binns is more enthralling. And I called you for a reason, Goblin, so shut that orifice of yours and listen up. Our mission this summer, shall you choose to accept it, and you _better_ accept it, is to get us invited to an upperclassmen party so I can 'run into,'" Santana uses her spare hand to form air quotes, "a certain tall, ravishing Ravenclaw." She licks her lips involuntarily.

"Well, I'll have you know that Finn has been invited to the Gryffindor quidditch party, which if you were _patient_, I would have gotten to." Rachel's voice is chiding and Santana grumbles again. "But yes, you can come with us. Saturday night at Sam's place, his parents are vacationing apparently. It's way up in Manchester so we can floo or portkey, we'll figure it out later."

Santana's stomach swoops and she's grinning through the phone. "Rachel, I have never loved your oaf of a boyfriend more than I do at this very moment."

When Rachel launches into another anecdote from her dads' shopping escapade, Santana lets her mind wander to Brittany, hoping that as a star quidditch player and the most popular girl in school, she will also be at Sam Evans' house on Saturday night.


End file.
